Raunchy sex.

  When I noticed a voice message from my best friend, I figured what could it hurt to see if I was losing my mind or not. She knew everything about me, including my work ethic. She also had been bugging me for months to go out on a date. I could only imagine her squeal when I told her. I dialed the number, closing my eyes. As soon as I did, an image of Phoenix’s face slipped into the forefront of my mind.

  So rugged. So tall and muscular. What he could do with his mouth was sinful, intoxicating. Even though I’d taken a shower, his scent somehow remained lingering, filling my senses with the full effect of his testosterone. Every inch of me tingled, my bottom still on fire from the second spanking of the trip. As I wiggled on the seat, I hadn’t realized she’d answered.

  “You’re moaning. Are you okay?”

  I opened my eyes, half laughing. “Lizzie. I’m fine. I’m actually better than fine, although you’ll need to be the judge if I’ve lost my ever-loving mind.”

  “How did it go with your father and the funeral?”

  I’d called her with the news. She was the single person I’d told about my estranged relationship with my father, everyone else believing that he was dead. At least now I wouldn’t be lying.

  The answer was more difficult than I wanted to admit. “The truth is I’ve never felt so alone in my life. There was no one there to send him off.”

  “That sounds horrible,” she said quietly, such sympathy in her voice. She’d chided me for months about breaking out of my shell, finding happiness that had eluded me for years.

  “Tragic, but he did it to himself.”

  “I know but that didn’t mean what you had to go through wasn’t difficult. Why didn’t you have him cremated instead?”

  Elizabeth was never the voice of reason. Her take on life was to live large, have no regrets, and taste everything delectable while you had the chance. I secretly longed to be her, frivolous when it came to men and fashion. Another laugh pushed to the surface. “I honored my father’s wishes. That was the least I could do.” The top line of his will had stated in no uncertain terms that he be buried under the soil he loved so much. At least my father had found something to love, certainly not his family.

  She snorted. “He gave you nothing. Why bother?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it was the decent thing to do.”

  She hesitated, but I knew she was thinking of a snarky rebuttal. At least she knew when I made up my mind about something, a tank couldn’t stop me. “Are you back in town? I thought you were going to call me.”

  A warm flush tickled my cheeks, a split second of yearning allowing another wave of butterflies to swarm in my stomach. “I forgot to mention I was taking the train back to Florida.”

  “A train? As in from Los Angeles?”

  “No. I caught one in Napa Valley. It was on my bucket list. A truly beautiful experience.”

  Along with fucking a stranger. Well, I accomplished two goals. Yay me.

  “Wow. Maybe your father’s death did you some good. I know that sounds blasphemous, but you needed a kick in the pants.”

  “Oh, I got that as well.”

  “Meaning what?” Elizabeth pressed. “I know that voice. That’s the I’m-a-good-girl-but-did-something-wrong voice.”

  “Very funny.” But she was right. I fiddled with my cup, staring at the waning afternoon sun, able to see a cactus from my window. “I met a man on the train.”

  “Ooh la la. I hope you spoke to him.”

  “Jesus. I wouldn’t be telling you this if I hadn’t spoken to him and…” Why was I embarrassed? I was a grown woman, for God’s sake. I could do anything I wanted to. As long as it was within reason and not against the law.

  “And? Come on. I need the juicy details,” she prodded.

  I shifted the almost empty glass back and forth across the little table, ashamed I’d left before he’d awakened. Maybe we could have shared breakfast in bed. Oh, who was I kidding? It was a two-night stand on a train and nothing more. “I might have spent the night with him.” I refused to tell her how many times we’d shared blistering passion. She’d think I was nuts.

  She coughed, then started to choke.

  “Whoa. Are you okay?” I couldn’t help but laugh. I could only imagine what was racing through her wicked mind.

  “Wait. Wait. Let me get this straight. You slept with a stranger on a train?”

  “I did.”

  “Where? In the middle of a row of seats with other passengers around?” Elizabeth scoffed.

  “No, silly. We both have luxury sleeper suites. I just happened to find myself in his.” No, he’d dragged me there, almost tossing me over his shoulder, acting like a big he-man who took his woman whenever he wanted.

  And I’d loved it.

  The taste of him.

  The rough sex.

  The harsh spanking.

  The wild passion.

  Whew. I was already hot and wet. Again. My lurid thoughts were becoming ridiculous.

  “Someone killed my best friend after cloning her. Where is the conservative woman who shoves aside every single man who even dares to ask her to dance when I can drag her out to a club?”

  “She’s here. Right here.” Her bottom aching and her pussy wet. I refused to tell her just how far down the kinky rabbit hole I’d gone. She’d likely try to convince me to see a shrink.

  “O-kay. So what is this sexy man like? I assume he’s hot and buff?”

  I bit my lower lip to keep from moaning in remembrance of the pleasure we’d shared. “He’s without a doubt the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. He’s six foot five, carved to perfection with a square jaw that could chisel the finest stone. He had dreamy eyes the color of the Aegean Sea, soft lips meant for kissing all night long. And he’s covered in gorgeous ink.”

  Her heavy breathing brought me back to reality, doing my best to shove the ridiculous fantasy away. “Oh, my. What about his cock?”

  “Is that all you think about?”

  “Um, it is important. Some big guys have teensy tiny dicks,” she insisted.

  “Not Phoenix. His cock is long, thick, and delicious.”

  “Phoenix?” Why had her tone of voice changed?

  “Well, it might not be his real name, but he doesn’t know mine. It’s a little game we’re playing. Don’t tell each other anything personal. Just enjoy.”

  “And you can’t stand dating apps. Seriously, what’s gotten into you?”

  I leaned back in the chair, staring up at the ceiling. “I honestly don’t know. I was drawn to him, or he was to me. We just connected.”

  “Are you seeing this perfect man again?”

  “I guess I will since there are two and a half more days on the train. Maybe. I don’t even know where he’s going. I think there are a couple additional stops before we get to Orlando.”

  “Well. I am very proud of you. I hope he’s intelligent and a nice person too. He better be a gentleman. He’s grabbed the hottest catch in Miami.”

  “Right.” At least she could always make me laugh. “You know what’s strange? Yesterday he told me he was a bad man. What’s funny is I think he is.”

  “That’s not funny. What do you mean bad? As in dangerous?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. I just have a feeling in my stomach that won’t go away.”

  “Then maybe you need to find out more about him. Jeffrey Dahmer was good looking too and you see where that got the women he met.”

  She always had a flair for the dramatic. “Wrong serial killer and that’s not it.” Dangerous, yes. A killer? Maybe, but not randomly.

  “I’m just telling you to be careful,” she insisted.

  “Yeah, I know and I will be.” With his attire and expensive watch, he was obviously wealthy. The nagging had been with me for too long, the lump in my throat remaining. I’d always followed my gut. This time it was screaming at me. But why?

  “Why don’t you try and look him up. There can’t be too many men with the name Phoenix.”

  “With no other information? You’re out of your mind.” I laughed as I leaned against the window, watching as several people ran into the arms of loved ones. I couldn’t imagine my life that way, a family waiting at home for my return.

  “Send me a picture of him. I’ll do a little sleuthing. Don’t you remember one of my guys is a police officer?”

  “One of your guys. How many do you have in your stable?” She collected men and shoes in the same way.

  “A few. Don’t judge me. Think of it this way. At least with being on a train full of passengers, he can’t do anything nefarious.” Elizabeth laughed again, but I sensed concern in her voice.

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Why did I have the feeling he wouldn’t like having his picture taken? When I heard a knock on the door, a knot formed in my stomach, the butterflies going wild. “I need to go.”

  “If he checks out, have fun. You deserve it, honey.”

  “Maybe I do. I’ll send you something later.” I ended the call, dropping the phone and immediately fluffing my curls. I sensed he was on the other side of the door. Waiting.

  Hungering.

  So was I.

  Did that make me a very bad girl?

  As I moved toward the door, I took a deep breath. Phoenix had given me no indication that I should be nervous, but after dealing with my father, the warning he’d given me, I remained leery. I’d suspected my father was into criminal activity years before, just by the things he’d said the few times I’d talked to him on the phone.

  Then there was the warning before I’d ended our last phone call.

  “There are some irreputable people hunting for me. Be careful with the information I sent you. But you’re a smart girl. You’re my beautiful daughter and I love you.”

  I’d felt nothing inside. Not fear or anger any longer. After all the years of silence, then his constant attempts at re-entering my life, I’d ignored his pleas because of the emptiness I’d felt inside. There was no reason for me to feel guilty or concerned.

  But I was.

  As soon as I opened the door, the concern I’d felt faded away. Phoenix’s massive frame filled the doorway, but it was his smile that captured my attention.

  “It’s customary when two people spend two nights together to at least say farewell, it’s been nice, or get out of my life,” he said, his deep voice penetrating every cell and bone in my body.

  “Oh. Are you an expert on two-night stands?”

  He took a deep breath, allowing his heated gaze to fall far too slowly to the sandals I was wearing. “The truth is no. If I desire spending time with a woman, passion isn’t the first thing on my list of needs.”

  “Oh? What is?”

  “Engaging in lively conversation and enjoying a fabulous meal.” He settled his eyes on mine, the late afternoon sunlight streaming in through the window providing a warm glow around his gorgeous face.

  “Are you leaving?” I asked, sweltering from the heat radiating through his body.

  “Not unless you insist.” He laughed then narrowed my eyes. “No, I have business in Florida. I’m taking the train all the way to Orlando.”

  Should I consider that a coincidence? “Then I’ll be lucky enough to learn more about you.”

  He rubbed his fingers down my cheek, another thunderous moment of energy tightening the cords in my stomach. “That’s all you’re going to get.”

  “Does that mean you’re hungry?”

  He lifted his eyebrows, the slight sound he made unnerving. “Very much so. Why not find the perfect little bistro off the train? We do have a few hours to kill. Unless you’d prefer something more… carnal in nature.”

  The powerful man had a way of exposing the fissures in my armor, slowly dragging the naughty vixen into the light. “Later. We’ll indulge in items number one and two on your list first.”

  “Then let’s not waste another minute. I’m not a man known for my patience.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Whitney

  St. Louis was a fascinating city, the afternoon sun skipping across panes of glass and steel, but the area we were in had an old world feel. While there’d been a few places within walking distance, Phoenix hadn’t been satisfied, calling a cab so we could explore during the limited time we had off the train. Everything with the man seemed like an adventure, one a significant part of me never wanted to end.

  He knew of a perfect place, directing the driver to what seemed like a hole in the wall in an older part of the city. That led me to believe he’d been here before. The dark, foreboding interior gave way to a gorgeous terrace complete with fountains and flowering plants, light jazz music coming from an unseen source. Lights hung in trellises, vines weaving a delicate pattern across the lattice ceiling. The intimate setting was accentuated with candles on every table, a light breeze tickling my senses with the fragrance of exotic spices and fresh herbs.

  I was immediately relaxed, the atmosphere completely different than I’d anticipated Phoenix appreciating.

  As soon as we were seated, he ordered a bottle of champagne, the name one I recognized but not one I’d enjoyed before. However, I also noticed on the menu it was expensive. Was the man trying to impress me? Maybe the question should be why.

  “You like bubbly?”

  “Let’s just say I’m very familiar with the libation.” Phoenix acted as if he’d give nothing away about himself, adhering to the rules of the game. I was the kind of girl who wasn’t daunted by any rules. Especially ones created by a man.

  “If you’re trying to impress me, champagne won’t do it,” I told him.

  “Then what will?” Mischief played across his chiseled face, the dimness of the lighting unable to hide the amusement in his eyes.

  “The truth. In all things.”

  Phoenix chuckled, the sound coming from a deep place in his chest, obviously comfortable with his place of control. I had trouble keeping my gaze from lingering too long, the white shirt he’d worn highlighting the golden glow of his skin. He’d rolled the sleeves past his elbows, which drew my attention to his various tattoos. While his trousers were more casual than what he’d worn both nights before, the dark charcoal was a direct contrast to his shirt, reminding me how primal he was.

  Savage.

  The word lingered in my mind like a beacon of sin.

  “And just what are you determined to learn about me?” he asked as he sat back in his chair.

  “What do the tattoos mean?” I leaned across the table, returning the look of mischief with one of my own.

  “Various things.”

  “Gangs?”

  His laugh suggested slight annoyance. “I’ve never been in a gang. They’re for people who have no direction, requiring a sense of leadership, so thirsty for it they’ll follow a monster without question. Often art is a very personal experience, not related to any unit or group.”

  “The skull?”

  “Hmm…” He leaned forward, the flickering candlelight reminding me why I’d been so taken with him. “That was a dare from my brother. He created the design, thinking I didn’t have the guts. I was sixteen, the kid much younger. My mother almost freaked.”

  We shared a laugh, his eyes never leaving me.

  “And the rose?” I asked a few seconds later.

  The same flash of uncertainty drifted across his face. He looked away but only for a brief second. “Sometimes there is a fine line between love and hate, the thread so thin that crossing back and forth becomes unhealthy. For some, a reminder is necessary.” He returned his gaze toward me, the settling twilight giving his eyes an obsidian coloration, the aura surrounding him darkening. His stare was as intent as it was profound. The subject was entirely off limits.

  “I understand more than you know.”

  “A woman so beautiful most certainly does.” The coldness of his tone was as enthralling as the man. He was complex, his multiple layers secured tightly. He trusted no one.

  And there was a defining moment as a reason.

  “What is a man of your obvious wealth doing taking a long train ride?”

  “I could ask you the same question.”

  “We’re not keeping score, at least so I thought.” His eyes were hooded, watching me with amusement tethered by a splash of desire.

  The combination was irresistible.

  “No, we’re not. However, is it so wrong for me to crave discovering more about the man who fucked me?”

  “Mmmm… Not in the least. Your observations are correct. I own two jets, both ready at a moment’s notice. However, the train will allow me to process a situation that occurred in my family. And, as I said before, I have business in Florida.”

  “A situation. I hope it’s not a tragedy?” The waiter arrived with the bottle, cutting the conversation short, but I had no plans of letting it go.

  “Not tragic, although it could have been.” He waited, barely acknowledging the waiter after he opened the bottle, the young man taking his time to fill our glasses. The entire time, Phoenix didn’t blink, keeping his eyes pointed on mine. It was almost as if he wanted me uncomfortable, acting on his formidable status.

  I fingered the glass, offering a seductive smile. “Often tragedies reveal truths about ourselves.”

  “Very true.” He waved the waiter away, immediately lifting his glass. “To truths.”

  “Agreed.” As we clinked glasses, the urge to continue pressing him was stronger than before. “Has the situation been rectified?”

  He took a deep breath. “Unfortunately, not yet, but I assure you that it will be. What I will not tolerate are those who betray me or my family.”

  The fact he was reiterating a point already made meant whatever he was dealing with was bothering him significantly.

  “You make it sound as if you have enemies.”

  “Several of them in fact.” He waited until I’d taken a sip of the champagne before doing the same. The bubbles tickled my tongue, the taste extraordinary.

  “I don’t recognize the vintage.”

  He turned the bottle in the bucket full of ice, lifting it so I could read the label.